


such a waste

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Series: and maybe she loves him [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Horny Teenagers, Not FFH compliant, Spideychelle AU, are up to no good, precious babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: She knows he’s itching to slide his hands lower, between her thighs to see how wet she is. To see if she wants him just as much.Even though he knows. Even though with his senses he could smell it immediately.And MJ wants that. Oh boy, she really wants that.It is the reason she gets out of her twin bed in the morning at this point.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: and maybe she loves him [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676200
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	such a waste

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. These goobers wouldn't get out of my brain. And also can't keep their hands off each other. Who, knew?
> 
> Continuation of my "Thanks, Man" Verse but you don't need to read that one first to understand this.
> 
> Unbeta'd and unedited midnight mess lol

“Fuck! Peter!”

Michelle looks down at her shirt, annoyed as she watches the fabric darken as the water seeps in. He’d been using the sink hose to rinse a plate and he’d turned to MJ instinctively without releasing his hold on the sprayer. 

They’d been about ¾ of the way through the dishes until MJ had leaned over to whisper in his ear and he’d gotten a little (a lot) distracted at having her so unexpectedly close.

Earlier, she’d interrupted what had been developing into a level 2 make-out session (she has a scoring system. She’s a scientist. It’s for science) to remind him about the dishes. 

Her parents had invited Peter over for dinner, and like the good boyfriend he is, he came and impressed, and even offered to clean up. She’s regretting the last part until she gets an idea. 

Michelle snaps her fingers twice in front of her boyfriend’s face and he finally comes back to her and shuts off the sink to grab her a towel. 

“Seriously,” she muses grumpily, “how do boys get anything done with their useless boy brains?”

“MJ, I’m so…” Peter swallows thickly, eyes fixed on the slight prod of her nipples he can see through her wet shirt. “...sorry. I’m sorry!”

The white shirt she was wearing is soaked and it’s really not helping Peter be a contributing participant in this conversation.

Michelle, for her part, just huffs and tosses the towel onto the counter. “C’mon. We’re mostly done anyway and I need to change now.”

You see, MJ is an opportunist, if anything, and her parents had left for some last minute get together with their friends at a bar down the street. Or something. She doesn’t know what the kids get up to these days. 

While her dad had made sure to stress that last part about it being “just down the street” while staring Peter down as he put on his coat, her mom had pulled her into a tight hug on her way out whispering, “We’ll be about 2 hours, honey. Just be safe, okay?”

Michelle had pulled away, eyeing the woman like she’d never met her before, and a smirk she’d never seen on her mother (but resided semi-permanently on her own face) disappeared behind their apartment door. 

“This...this is your room,” Peter stutters as she clicks her bedroom door shut. They’ve been dating for about 3 months, but this is Peter’s first time in her room. They usually hang out at his place because MJ loves May.

“Brilliant assessment, Peter. You know, has anyone ever told you to go into detective work? You’ve got a real knack.” She casually whips her shirt over her head, leaving her in only a lace bralet as she pretends to look for a shirt to put on.

Peter exhales a laugh, scratching nervously at the back of his neck and stuttering, “I-MJ, your dad seems like he wouldn’t approve of having me in here.” 

Shirtless MJ still shocks his system as much as the first time, but his eyes are darting around as if Mr. Jones can somehow see him in his daughter’s room. 

MJ abandons her fake search for a new shirt and crosses over to Peter. His hands are a little clammy and he’s so stiff MJ would almost laugh.

Oh, wait. She does laugh and Peter loosens up at the sound of it, pulling her closer, fingers running over the smooth skin at her waist. “Relax, Peter,” she sighs, sliding her arms around rub circles into the base of his spine. 

“Such privilege and no appreciation. That’s what’s wrong with capitalist america today. You know any other boy would be thrilled to be in my room,” she taunts, leaning back a little before she pecks his lips sweetly, feeling her stomach fluttering at the smile she receives.

“Oh, is that so?” He laughs, finally relaxing just as she’s asked.

“You know, I’m not sure,” she baits, feigning contemplation, “I'll have to test my theory with all my other boyfriends.”

And that does it. She can see the spark in his eyes. She’s joking, and he knows this, but the mere idea that there’s anyone for her besides him still makes Peter clutch tighter at her hips. 

Michelle bites down her bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. She’s nearly shaking at the thought of what’s coming next. 

Peter during sexy times has been the biggest surprise of their relationship. She’d expected the puppy dog eyes and the genuine thoughtfulness that he showed her every day in every way he could. But this. This was maybe her favorite discovery. 

“And your other boyfriends…” Peter doesn’t finish. His mouth is at her ear and MJ is melting into him every second. 

When he finally makes contact, quickly pulling the skin below her ear between his lips, she shudders. “You seem cold, MJ,” he teases her. His fingers are splayed lower on her hips than before. Peter can feel the curve of her ass at his fingertips and it’s making him crazy. 

He wants nothing more than to take hold, clutching greedily at the dips and valleys of MJ’s body. 

“Maybe you should get dressed?” Michelle is trying her hardest not to press herself forward against the bulge she can feel against her leg and Peter is... mocking her? 

“You... suck.” Even to her own ears she sounds breathless at his attention and it annoys her only because she can’t believe how much he affects her. 

(She hates him.)

(She loves him.)

Peter laughs quietly at her reply, but he doesn’t comment. He’s too busy kissing her and that’s definitely more important. 

His lips latch onto her neck as he feels MJ pulling him toward the big reading chair she has in her room where a desk used to be. She never used the desk. 

MJ pushes Peter down into the chair, positioning herself sideways across his lap with her legs resting over the arm of the chair. She wraps an arm around the back of his neck and threads her fingers through his curls. 

Her lips find his quickly, moaning not so quietly when Peter meets her with an open mouth immediately. His tongue slips into her mouth and MJ tugs harder on his hair, loving the grunt she gets in return. 

Peter’s got his hands full of MJ, one (finally) squeezing at her ass and the other at the base of her neck anchoring her to their kissing. His hips push up against her seeking any kind of relief.

“Fuck, Peter…” she breathes for a second time that evening as he slides his lips wetly across her collarbone and down to mouth at her cleavage hungrily. It’s almost like he wants to consume her completely. 

She pulls him away from the mark he’s leaving on her right breast to kiss him again sloppily, all passion and thirst. When they break apart, the look in his eyes has never failed to make her wet for him. 

Michelle is a feminist and any kind of possessive male bullshit is a no go for her, but with Peter eyeing her like that, like she’s his and his alone...well she’s only a girl, okay? 

“I want you so bad right now, “ he breathes across her face and she can feel how hard he is in his jeans for her. Peter moves his hand to rest on her stomach and leaves it there, tracing aimless patterns above her leggings. 

She knows he’s itching to slide his hands lower, between her thighs to see how wet she is. To see if she wants him just as much. 

Even though he knows. Even though with his senses he could smell it immediately. 

And MJ wants that. Oh boy, she really wants that. 

It is the reason she gets out of her twin bed in the morning at this point. 

And she tells him as much, kissing him deeply as she widens her legs across the arm of the chair to make a space for Peter’s wandering hands. 

They’re kissing so desperately now. Michelle can’t remember anything, feel anything but Peter. Their teeth click once and Peter smiles, “Hey.” 

“Hey,” she grins, leaning back in for a slower, more sensual kiss. He’s pressing light circles against her over her leggings and it’s such a tease. Her tongue darts out, tasting the salt of his skin before she connects her lips to his neck completely, sucking and marking him as he did her.

“Shit, Michelle,” he moans, quickening the motions of his hand in encouragement. She switches to another patch of skin, and begins working on a second mark. 

Again, Michelle is not possessive, but she loves seeing the spots of red and purple she leaves on Peter’s skin for few days (okay minutes...stupid super healing) after. 

What’s worse is Peter always seems to catch her looking at them. He’s always locking eyes with her across a classroom with that knowing smirk set across his lips like he knows how turned on she’s getting. 

Peter never looks away (unless the teacher is watching) and Michelle gets so worked up that it sometimes (always) ends up with Peter fingering her against the wall in one of the library study rooms.

“Peter, please,” she gasps into his neck, “Inside…” He stops only to slide his hand beneath her leggings and underwear, claiming her lips in fierce kiss when he feels how hot and swollen she is for him. 

This feeling. He thinks he’ll never get used to it. He’ll never get used to having her this way. He breaks the kiss to breathe and Michelle returns to kissing his neck, his ears, everywhere. 

“I love how wet you get for me, MJ. So fucking sexy…look at me.” She does. 

Keeping his eyes on her face, he runs his fingers up and down her a few times, coating his fingers and taking time to circle her clit just to hear her moan. He furrows his brow when she just bites down on her lip, nodding but otherwise stays silent. 

And Peter can’t have that, so he slips two fingers inside her without warning. Michelle cries out, the loudest she’s been, as Peter starts fucking her immediately. 

He nuzzles into her hair so he can speak directly into her ear, “This is what you wanted, right?…This was your plan all along. Couldn’t wait to have me inside your tight pussy...”

Michelle can feel herself squeezing his fingers tighter at the filthy things he’s whispering in her ear. This was something else new she learned about herself from Peter. She likes to be talked to...during.

She’s got her eyes are screwed shut and Peter can see the baby hairs around her face curling more at the heat building between them. Michelle groans lowly, sweat beginning to bead on her brow when Peter suddenly slows his pace. Always a goddamn tease. 

“C’mon, Michelle...fuck...I need to hear you…” His jeans are so tight and he knows he could come just from seeing her like this if he wanted to. 

“Baby…” Peter starts, but then, suddenly... he stops. Completely.

Michelle actually growls.

She will break up with him. 

Or kill him. 

She does not need a boyfriend. Not if this is how they treat her. She throws her head back and silent screams, because she knows what he’s going to say. 

“Your parents just walked into the lobby,” he tells her, pulling his hands away from the really top notch effort they were putting in down her pants. 

A waste. Such a waste. 

Peter presses a lingering kiss (a promise) against the scowling pout on her face and urges her to stand up so he can slip out of her bedroom. He stops with his hand on the door and pokes his head back in. 

Michelle hasn’t moved. She’s still shirtless. He notices. “You know I’ll make it up to you.” 

She doesn’t want to hear it.

“You’d better…” she grouches, but again, that look and the way he’s licking his lips as he eyes her? These are promises she can put her faith in. 

When she comes out to join him after actually finding a shirt, he’s back in the kitchen finishing the dishes and she’s struck with an overwhelming affection for her boyfriend. 

She thinks she might love Peter Parker. 

Her brain says “Finally.”  
Her heart says she’s late to the party. 

MJ knows he can feel her gaze, but he indulges her for a minute before he turns around. When he looks over his shoulder and gives her his best smile, she’s almost willing to tell him. 

Until her parents stumble (just a little) into the apartment. MJ feels warm as she watches her dad help her mom take off her heels without falling. 

She idly wonders if Peter would help her like that too when they’re old enough to drink. She already knows that he would. 

“What’d you kids get up to? Did you change clothes?” Her dad asks, examining the black shirt she’s now wearing before heading to the fridge in the kitchen. 

“I...did…” MJ’s eyes widen a bit as her dad turns to look directly at her.

“Oh, why is that?” He presses, standing straight and folding his arms. 

And Michelle just...freezes.

Normally she’s the one with the quick quips, rescuing Peter from terrible Spider-man excuses more times that she can count (she stopped counting at 103), but she’s freshly fucked and left dissatisfied and not at all in any place to be speaking to her father given what’s still going through her mind. 

It’s Peter who answers. 

“We’re not up to much, Mr. Jones, he smiles. “We just watched some TV and worked on the dishes.” 

Peter pauses to catch her eye, smirking. “I accidentally sprayed MJ with the sink sprayer so she had to get a new shirt,” he explains. MJ chimes in quickly, “Yeah...the other was totally soaked, Dad.” 

This seems to relax him and he nods without saying anything and starts to amble off towards the hallway. She’s about to ask Peter about the smirk when he strikes. 

“Yeah, MJ. So good that you’re not soaking wet anymore. It’s been a cold spring. You’ll catch your death.” 

She swats at him with the towel until he has to hide out in the bathroom, laughing. 

(She hates him.) 

(She loves him.)

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone catch my nod to Civil War? It's been making it's way into my day-day speak, so it also ended up in here too lol 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Check me out on tumblr at michellesbohh with (2 H's!)


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